


The True Name (Sans x Chara!Reader one-shot)

by Voice_of_Mischief



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chara!Reader, Frisk brings Chara back, Fuckton of headcanons lol, Gen, Not A Happy Ending, One Shot, Open Ending, Post Pacifist Ending, Reader Is Chara, cw: a fish dies, cw: mentions of self harm, does that count?, i mean it was a fish but there's usage of the word corpse, no actual romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 11:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voice_of_Mischief/pseuds/Voice_of_Mischief
Summary: At the time that I wrote this, it was to vent some frustration at myself for how I acted and felt in a lot of social situations, so it kinda reflects that. There's no actual romance between Reader and Sans, unfortunately. There are mentions of Reader previously having a crush on him, however. If a long, sad, pity-party fest is your sort of thing, go for it.Reader is Chara.Mentions of self harm.Slight violence? Mentions of blood and bruises.Hella headcanon-y territory boyos lmao





	The True Name (Sans x Chara!Reader one-shot)

**Author's Note:**

> im gonna regret posting this, huh
> 
> (Don't fret, people from my discord- the black sheep one-shot is still being written. I've just had this saved in my files for so long, found it while digging around, and figured no harm would come from posting it. Sorry it's such garbage lol)

"What're you making?"

Frisk lifted their head, a lax smile on their features. They gestured to the box of brownie mix, now lying empty and forlorn on the counter a few inches from their elbow. Asriel, his pot on their other side, shifted and rustled the bag of chocolate chips held loosely in his leaves. You sidled over, grinning down into the pan filled with the gooey, chocolatey mixture.

"Sweet."

Frisk snorted, aiming to elbow you and missing as you danced out of the way, smirking. "Leave the jokes to Mom, will ya?"

"As soon as you leave the flirting to Aron."

They made a face, sticking their tongue out at you. You laughed. 

"Careful, you stick that thing out so much and someone might just," your fingers strayed to the pair of scissors to emphasize your point, "cut it off."

They slapped their hands over their mouth, scowling at you with amusement clear in their gaze. Asriel laughed, eyeing you with that same eager, almost disbelieving look he usually gave you when he was desperately seeking your approval. As much as you cared for your brother, even in his soulless, botanical form, the look was sometimes enough to make you subconscious about the way you laughed or grinned or moved your arms or whatever else you might be doing at the time.

At the end of the last run, Frisk had made a proposal: They would not reset, not ever again, so long as you got to stay. Whilst you were enjoying being out of the underground at last, and being able to interact with Frisk as more than just the narrator to their adventure, you couldn't see why they wanted you here. You weren't exactly popular, you had a "strange" sense of humor, and you didn't really have a soul in the traditional sense ("the ghost of a shell of something that shouldn't exist anymore," you called it in your head), not to mention you weren't really a very good person to begin with. You knew this. That's why you had fought long and hard with Frisk about why they should leave you behind before you finally caved to their request, simply to stop them from giving you that look. 

And, true to their word, they had yet to reset, and all was going relatively smoothly; you and Frisk had your own little house right next to Mom and Dad and Papyrus and Undyne and Alphys' respective homes. The monsters had been startled when Frisk had come back from one last trip around the Underground with a potted flower and another human, but had accepted you into their circle of friends with varying degrees of success. Very, very much varying degrees of success.

"Snip, snip, Frisky, look out!" You laughed, playfully clicking the scissors a safe distance from their face. They ducked as though genuinely afraid, though they, too, were giggling. "First your tongue, maybe then your beautiful hair, eh?" 

You smirked teasingly, knowing how they cherished their precious locks. They grasped the ends of their bobbed hair in both hands as though to protect it, shaking their head furiously. 

"No, no, anything but that!"

"Snip, snip!" You laughed, exaggeratedly drawing the scissors slowly toward their head, carefully eyeing their body language to make sure they didn't move suddenly and end up stabbing themselves by accident.

Footsteps, a tad louder than they should have been, burst your little bubble of fun. You drew up short, lowering the scissors and glancing toward the doorway to see who had let themselves in. Hopefully Dad, he'd said he had a new mug for you... 

Sans stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets but posture a little too drawn-up to look relaxed. Your good mood disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He was grinning, but you saw the glower behind it. Your own smile quickly sank from your face, changing into a frown and slight scowl of your own. 

You dropped the scissors on the counter with a clatter, hunching your shoulders and shoving your way past him pointedly. Frisk called your name, sounding confused, and Asriel yelped almost pleadingly after you. 

"Goin' for a walk." You threw over your shoulder, shoving a hand into your pocket and opening the back door with the other. You thought you heard Sans say something along the lines of 'what's getting under sulky's skin?' but paid him no heed. If you wanted to be in a bad mood, you were damn well going to be in a bad mood, who cared if you looked childish? No one took you seriously anyway, so what did it matter?

You huffed as you set off on a random forest path. You wish you knew why Sans treated you like you were the scum of the earth whilst getting chummy with Frisk. Did he just dislike the shades of green and yellow you wore so often? Maybe it was your sarcasm or your sense of humor. Still, even if one of your habits was one of his pet peeves, that gave him no right to be a right old jackass about it. 

'Just who do you think you're kidding?' Jeered your own voice inside your head, 'Everyone knows you're the worst thing to happen to their group since Genocide.' 

You snarled, picking up a fallen tree branch and cranking it back, cracking it against a tree with all your might. It snapped with a sound like a gunshot, and some of the tension left your shoulders as the impact sent shudders up your arms. You dropped the end and stooped, picking up a handful of pebbles and squeezing them, hard, in your fist. You relished in that sting.

 

"So what's Mom throwing a party for this time?"

"I think she said something about having their first successful meeting since they got to the surface."

"Seems like she's throwing get-togethers every week. I mean, we all live right next door to each other, we see each other every day."

"Be nice." Frisk elbowed you, chuckling. Your nudged right back, shifting Asriel so his pot was balanced on your shoulder. He gripped the sides of your head with his leaves. It could have been more uncomfortable. You ignored it.

"Hey, I wasn't saying I was complaining. Can't wait to get me some fuckin' pie, dude."

"I hope you're not planning on using that language around Mom. I don't think she even knows we know about the birds and the bees yet."

"I hear ya."

Frisk knocked on Mom's door, but you rolled your eyes and let yourself in. Frisk 'humph'ed behind you, and reluctantly followed. You grinned when you saw Mom come bustling down the hallway leading to her living room, wearing one of her usual dresses, this one a soft shade of raspberry. She was beaming, and she was quick to draw you both into a hug when you came within arm's reach.

"Hello, my children!"

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, Mom. Congrats on the meeting!"

Mom pulled away, clasping her soft white palms giddily. "Oh, I'm simply delighted! We're finally making progress! I knew it was only a matter of time!"

You sidestepped the duo as they started getting into politics (no thanks), jostling Asriel on your shoulder a bit. The living room was filled with the warm, cozy feeling of a space inhabited by monsters, and you got glimpses of Undyne lifting Papyrus with one arm as Alphys laughed into her hands and Mettaton and Blook chatting nearby; Dad caught sight of you and extended his arms, laughing as you gleefully launched yourself into his grasp. He closed his large, strong arms around you and lifted you off your feet, and you laughed, pressing your cheek to his warm, comfortable chest. You had missed his embrace.

"It is good to see, dear." He rumbled softly once he loosed you, letting you slide back to the floor. This close, you could see the edges of gray in his beard. You squeezed his shoulder and touched your nose to his, an old gesture.

"Same to you, King Dad." You paused, feeling that old, familiar feeling wrapping itself warmly around your chest, and you smiled, softer this time. "I still can't believe you kept that old sweater."

"But of course!" He laughed, that deep and jolly laugh you had tried so hard to achieve in the past. "It is one my most cherished possessions."

Heat rose in your cheeks, and you laughed, scratching the back of your head. "Yeah, well..." You coughed, avoiding his gaze. "I, uh, really like that mug you got me."

You chatted with him for a while, leaving him to update Frisk on the goings on from the last meeting and drifting over to Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys. It seemed the skeleton and the fish monster were now comparing bicep sizes. You snickered as you sidled up. 

"Dunno, Undyne, I'm thinking Papyrus' got you beat." 

You said it mostly to rile up the warrior and to make a joke out of the whole 'skeletons don't have biceps' thing, and it worked, for the most part. Alphys, apparently still unsure what to make of you, laughed a little awkwardly, Undyne giving you an incredulous look. Papyrus, however, planted his hands on his hips and smirked the best he could.

"WELL, THAT SETTLES IT! IF THE SECOND HUMAN THINKS I AM BETTER, WHICH I CLEARLY AM, THAN YOU MUST ACCEPT IT AS FACT!" Papyrus beamed at you, clearly trying to be encouraging. 

He apparently knew of your struggles in attempting to please the group and be accepted and so had thus redoubled his efforts to make you feel accepted. While you appreciated it, he laid it on so thick it felt... fake. It wasn't that you wanted to feel it was so- quite the opposite, really- but you couldn't help the slightly bitter taste it left in your mouth.

Despite the tide rising within you, you shifted Asriel into the crook of one arm, planting the other hand firmly on your hip and conjuring up a cocky smirk. "Sorry, Undyne, my word is law. Turns out Papyrus is just too cool. He wins, hands down."

You could tell Undyne wasn't entirely convinced of your intentions. Perhaps she thought you were trying to mock Papyrus. Her eye narrowed at you and she might have snarled slightly, then she was barking out an entirely forced laugh. Asriel was gripping your forearm tightly with his leaves. He always had been clingy.

You made your rounds with each of the guests, making awkward and forced and often 'cocky' remarks here and there, avoiding Sans when you could. He returned the treatment, thankfully. You didn't want to have a hole burned into the side of your head with the intensity of his gaze this time, thanks. Mettaton and Blook made polite conversation with you for a few minutes before you dropped the ball and you ended up lapsing into uneasy silence. That was one reason you so disliked these parties. When you and Frisk got separated during them, you ended up despising your lack of social skills.

You tried to shut out that thought and, after taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you strode over to Alphys and Undyne with your hands 'casually' in your pockets. Asriel had been exchanged to Frisk by this point, so you hoped that you being without your soulless brother might help the couple relax a bit. You edged into a conversation about anime tropes- of which you knew a handful- and you were surprised with the change it brought in Alphys. Her gaze totally lit up, and Undyne was giving her the look Alphys often gave her behind her back.

Things were going relatively smoothly, and you had forgotten your earlier discomforts and misgivings, until...

"I-I was so embarrassed! My boss! Who is also the king of all monsters! W-walking in on me singing horribly to the Mew Mew Kissy C-Cutie intro!" Alphys laughed, terribly pink behind her hands. Undyne laughed, leaning over and giving the scientist a peck. Now she was a lovely shade of red.

You laughed along, waving a hand vaguely. "I mean, it can't just be me that's wanted to cut out their own tongue before." 

You had meant it both jokingly and not- an exaggeration and not. But suddenly they weren't laughing anymore and they were looking at you oddly and it took you a second to realize you'd done it again. You'd said something 'strange.' 

Your smile dropped a bit, and you stared at the two monsters, mentally pleading with them to understand. This was what you got when you got carried away, forgot yourself, allowed yourself to speak unchecked. Frisk and Asriel were used to it. These guys weren't, and their gazes filled your skull with darkness and judgement. The beast that had laid dormant around your soul for a few moments was suddenly stirring, and a stone dropped into your stomach and your palms were sweaty. 

You forcefully hitched the smile back up on your face, and your voice was so much more breathy and causal than it should have been, almost making it seem like they were the ones being strange, "Just an exaggeration for the sake of humor, guys. Not everyone drop dead at once." 

You strode airily past them, clapping Undyne on the shoulder as you went. Practice had made these cover ups come almost second nature to you. You knew it didn't fool them, but it preserved your dignity the best you could in these situations.

You were headed for the kitchen on auto pilot. A fleeting image crossed your mind, of you gutting yourself with a large fire poker to make the terrible things clawing at your stomach stop, to relieve the tension that had seized you. You bypassed the fridge, though chocolate was one of your safety foods and Mom would probably have some for this express purpose, and made instead for the drawers. You opened them at random, scrounging through forks and spoons and butter spreaders and spatulas and measuring spoons, not really knowing what you were looking for. The cool metal of the utensils was soothing on your palms. You gripped the rounded edge of a spoon tightly, and the metal bit into your skin, but did not puncture. You curled your fist tighter.

"ahem."

You dropped the spoon in surprise, twisting around so quickly one of your pockets caught the knob on the drawer and jerked it, making its contents jostle loudly. The comedian was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, but there was no attempt at aloofness this time. He was grinning, still, but the lights in dark sockets were dimmed. Once mesmerizing, those eye lights now felt like a threat. He was judging you. Scrutinizing you. You hated that x-raying look. You scowled at him for startling you.

"jumpy, aren'cha? they say people with guiltily consciences can have that." He chuckled. But it's not funny. He glowered at you a few moments, and when he blinked those lights were dimmer than ever. To think you'd once found them intriguing. "she doesn't have knives."

As he said it, you recalled how Mom had gotten rid of her knives and ground down anything with a sharp edge. Not to protect others, oh, no- to protect you. 

From yourself.

Guilt and shame washed over you. After all they had done for you-

"I'm aware." You kept your expression free of the trace of the beast that dwelled inside you, raising a contemptuous eyebrow at the skeleton. "What? You think I'm gonna stab someone every time you turn around? Big bad skeleton scared of the naughty little kid?" 

You laughed. It twisted your face into that grin you had hid behind in a previous life and sounded empty and sincere and malicious all at once. You kept it short, soon smirking and forcing your way past the skeleton with a sneer. 

"Look out, skeleton, I might just bite!" 

He glared at you, no longer grinning, and too late you realized that in your defense you had lashed out at him. You tried to force yourself not to feel bad about it. At least now he had a reason to spite you. 

You found Frisk chatting with Alphys and Undyne and tapped their shoulder. Alphys and Undyne eyed you warily, as though on the look out for some animal that might lash out again. If the thing that lived in your chest squeezed your husk of a soul any tighter it would shatter the stupid thing. You tried to keep your expression casual, but apparently your resolve wasn't strong enough; Frisk turned to look at you just as you spotted Sans stepping out of the kitchen over their shoulder, and their expression shifted to concern. Asriel was studying you with that look he used to give you when he was trying to tell what you were feeling.

"What's up? Is something the matter?"

"Nah," your tone was deceptively light, "I'm just beat. I'm heading home, felt like I should warn you."

If Frisk saw past your lie, they decided to leave it till later. "Well, okay. Say bye to Mom and Dad."

"Yeah."

You could feel Sans' gaze on you as you approached the two chatting royals. You told them you were just tired- they seemed to buy this, but you never slept real great anyway- and said your goodbyes. Together, they hugged you, catching you off guard, and for a moment the beast in your chest was forced away and your eyes stung as you clung tightly to the both of them as well. You buried your head into Dad's shoulder, breathing in his familiar and comforting smell of flowers and fresh cut grass and tea. Mom murmured a concern, asking if you were alright. You nodded into Dad's shoulder, closing your eyes to stem the sting building behind your eyes.

"Just a little longer." You whispered, holding them marginally tighter, and they seemed to understand, their love warm and soft around you, strong enough to blot out the ever burning sensation of eye lights trained on you.

 

You scowled hard at the manager through the glass doors of the restaurant. Your face ached, your knuckles were sore, and your ribs were throbbing under your now rumpled sweatshirt. One of your eyes felt hot and taut, and when you brought a hand up and touched the edges it sent a jolt of pain straight to your temple. You could taste the powerful iron tang of blood, and the warm tickling on your upper lip told you your nose was oozing out a steady trickle of blood.

Frisk, Mom, and Dad had stopped by the doors to try and explain to the manager. The manager looked disgruntled and furious all at once, clearly unnerved by the idea of refusing anything to the royal family. Still, he was resolutely shaking his head, and though you could not hear his words, you could imagine them well enough,

"... caused a huge disturbance, scared off paying customers, you're lucky if we don't call the police..."

Your brow furrowed further, your anger hot in your ears and loud in your heartbeat. Alphys had sat on one of the benches by the doors, staring intently at her knees, and Undyne was leaning against the wall beside her, clearly itching to be pacing or, even better, shouting and summoning magical weapons angrily. The fish monster was instead settling for drumming her fingers on her crossed arms, shooting you hostile glares through a sharp eye every so often. Papyrus and Sans were on the opposite side of the entrance, Papyrus looking incredibly confused and Sans looking grim and angry. A worm coiled and stirred in your half empty stomach. You felt like you'd be sick.

You kept your jaws firmly shut. You didn't need to explain shit to nobody. 

Your chest was still heaving, legs trembling the slightest with adrenaline. Blood ran down your chin, threatening to stain your favorite sweatshirt. You hated humanity. All of it. It was despicable and disgusting and demented and you hated it.

The little bell on the door jingled as your family came trooping out, Mom sighing tiredly, Dad frowning softly, and Frisk meeting your gaze through a hardened and stern look. You heard your teeth squeak as you accidentally ground them too hard. You hated to see their disapproval. The worm of guilt in your gut grew to the size of a python.

You wiped the blood from your chin as they approached, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Mom touched your cheek lightly with one hand, the other coming to rest on your shoulder.

"Are you alright, my child? Oh, your eye..." She frowned softly, clearly concerned. Concern first, questions later, that was always her mentality. She had eyes of the deepest crimson, but the python grew to be a beast of fire and claws at the worry in her gaze.

You chuckled, lightly touching the lip of your eye again, dodging her eyes again. "It's nothin'. Can't even feel it." 

That was a lie. You were good at lying. Or, at least, you did it often.

"Where else did they hit you?" She pressed her palm softly against the inflamed skin of your face again, and this time you felt the wonderfully cool, soothing pulse of healing magic sink into your skin. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

"Nowhere. Don't worry about it. I'm fine, Ma." 

You gently pulled her hand away from your face, determined to make her stop worrying about your useless sack of flesh self. It didn't work, but she pulled away a little anyway, adjusting the shoulder strap of her bag. Undyne was standing upright now, scrutinizing you. Sans and Papyrus still hung back. Frisk took a half step forward.

"Picking a fight with two people twice your size and clearly more practiced than you is a really dumb idea." Their stern gaze might have been a glare, might have been a bit resentful. This lunch was supposed to be for them. They had every right to hate you, if they so desired.

Frisk. Recently dubbed the Monster Ambassador. Looking forward to leading to a better world where humans and monsters lived happily together, side by side.

'Good luck,' your thoughts betrayed you. 'I will never live happily amongst humans.'

"Frisk!" Mom scolded them softly, sounding shocked at their outburst. You wiped your nose again, determinedly jerking your head to the side and glaring at the sidewalk beneath your feet.

"They're right. 'M sorry. That was a shitty thing to do. It won't happen again." 'Next time, I'll knock at least one out first so I don't get my ass handed to me.'

"Language." There wasn't much heat behind Mom's words. She looked... relieved that you had apologized. Were you really that terrible? That receiving an apology was something to celebrate? The dragon turned into a chimera and torn you insides to pieces, leaving you empty. "Let's... go home and get you cleaned up. I'm sure I can whip up something for lunch there." 

As one, the group rippled and got to their feet. Papyrus looked relieved to be leaving the restaurant behind, while Alphys was still staring pointedly down and Undyne was standing bodyguard over her. You paused for a few moments to let your family past, aiming to follow behind them.

Suddenly, Sans almost pointedly hit you with his shoulder as he passed, shooting you a look through the edge of his sockets, and whispering as he did,

"couldn't even control yourself for them, huh?"

You glared after him, hating the way your eyes stung and your throat constricted, rubbing your raw shoulder tenderly. You trailed a few paces behind the group, which was eerily quiet, but Dad slowed a tad and allowed you to fall into step beside him. For a few moments, all was quiet between you, save for the unsteady falls of your footsteps. You had twisted your ankle when one of those bastards had shoved you into the neighboring table.

"Why did you attack those men?" His voice was soft and nearly a whisper, not at all accusatory or angry. Sad, perhaps. Empathetic. You glanced at the back of Frisk's head. They had their head tilted just a little to the side; listening. 

You jerkily shook your head. Dad sighed softly, but did not press.

They did not need to know what those men had been saying about them, what you had overheard as you came back to the table from the restroom.

 

"Is that the one you want?"

Mom peered at the small, clear plastic cup in your hands, at the small, cerulean blue beta fish moving in idle circles inside. You grinned as Frisk came up, holding their own small cup, this one containing a fish of pearly white. Asriel, balancing himself on your shoulder, simply looked glad to be part of your party. He clung to your sweater like a burr. 

"Yes, this is the one we want." You had included Asriel as part of the decision making process, as you had agreed you would be taking care of him together. He had wanted to pick one that attacked your finger when you pressed it against the clear plastic. He had also liked the idea that these fish were so aggressive they had to be kept separate from others of their species.

"And you, Frisk? That is the one you want?"

Frisk nodded, watching the white beta make a graceful loop through the water. "I'm going to name him Quartz. What about yours? What are you guys going to name him?" They turned to you, smiling. They were glad you were going along with their unspoken plan.

You grinned wider, holding the cup up to your face and staring the fish in the eyes. "Cocoa Bean. Bean for short." Asriel muttered that he had voted 'Shredder.' You pretended you hadn't heard. 

"Really? Cocoa Bean? Not, like, Blue, or something?" Frisk looked exasperated but amused. 

You nodded, your mind made up and determined. They rolled their eyes, and just then something obscured the light and made the water in your cup reflect the same color as the fish's scales. You lowered the cup from in front of your face. Sans was standing between Frisk and Mom, now, looking disdainfully at your fish. Or perhaps at you. Your smile dropped. Frisk and Mom were suddenly eyeing you tiredly.

"we ready to get this show on the road? Papyrus' been trying to convince me to get one of the gerbils for ten minutes and i think it's better we get outta here before my resolve cracks."

Mom and Frisk laughed, apparently amused by his predicament. You didn't see much funny about it. Maybe his humor was lacking recently. You had found him so funny before. Your heart gave a funny little twist in your chest. You ignored it, crushing the feeling and determinedly avoiding Sans' gaze, glaring off into space.

"Yes, I think we're ready. Does anyone know who has the cart?"

You finished setting up the tank some hour or so later, being careful to swirl the water-clarifier around and make sure, for the fifth time, that the filter was working and the aerator bubbling. It was set up on the desk in your room, below the window so as to receive light during the morning and afternoon. You turned to Asriel, who you had been put in charge of making sure Cocoa Bean didn't go anywhere. 

"Alright, I think it's ready. Any last minute things we should do?'

Asriel squinted at the tank, pale, flower face slightly scrunched. "This needs to be a little..." He reached in with a slim green vine and nudged one of the fake plants to the left, then retracted it. "It'll do."

You smiled. "Wanna have the honors?"

He popped the lid off Cocoa Bean's cup and, oddly gently for his recent self, tipped him into the tank. The fish swirled in a circle for a few moments, then darted into the small cave and poked his head back out, eyeing you balefully. You smiled, crouching on your knees with your chin resting on your crossed arms, your head level with the tank. The fish's scales danced your favorite shade of blue in the light of the late afternoon sun.  
-  
You stared at the tank despairingly. A month and a half had passed since you'd gotten Bean, just long enough for you to look forward to getting up and watching him eat the small food pellets you dropped in for him every morning, just long enough for you to get used to him being there. He had seemed so lively, swimming up to peer at you when you approached the glass, curiously tapping the glass barrier between you when you put a finger to the side. Now, he floated stiffly on his side at the top of the water, mouth wide and gaping, eyes dark and staring, gills deathly still. 

You knew you shouldn't feel so emotional over a fish, of all things, dying, but for some reason it brought back to you an onslaught of things you'd rather forget. As though, somehow, this was the culmination of all the things you couldn't do.

Can't do anything right. Can't even keep a fish.

You crouched there, staring at the corpse as it bobbed in slow circles at the top of the tank, for god knows how long. You heard footsteps and didn't bother to look up. Frisk said something, but you weren't listening. After a moment, they came over and looked over your shoulder, making a small noise of sadness when they did. They touched your shoulder, and you shrugged them off. They stepped back, looking affronted. Their fish was just fine and dandy. You crushed something like bitterness rising in your chest.

You knew they had only taken you to get a fish in the hopes it would help you improve. The only reason they'd gotten their own was so it wouldn't look suspicious. As if you wouldn't know. You felt as though you'd eaten rancid meat, curdling and twisting in your gut.

"It'll be okay. We can go get another one." They tried to assure you, trying to keep a light and cheery yet soothing tone. It went in one ear and out the other, like water off a ducks back.

"Don't bother."

You stood and picked up the fishnet out from its place beside the tank. You met their gaze, your walls up and your tone final. They frowned, seemingly knowing they couldn't argue with you as you were, and simply walked out of the room. You lifted the lid off the tank, mindful of the cords, and stared at the body, flashing palest blue in the light, and resisted the urge to cry. 

It was just a fish. You should have been able to do this one, minuscule thing, but everything you touched had to go wrong in the most monstrous of ways. 

"Chara..." Asriel's tone was feeble, careful. He was testing the waters. One of his leaves brushed your arm. You twitched it away.

"Not now, Asriel."

He frowned, but shut his mouth and kept quiet. You lifted the net and dipped it into the water, carefully drawing the corpse from the water.

 

"What- how did you get that?!"

"Aha! I knew it! You screen peek!"

"Don't throw it!!"

"Oh, I'm gonna throw it!"

"No, no, no, no-!"

"Ahahaha, eat it!"

You laughed manically, zooming past Frisk's cart and crossing the finish line thanks to your handy blue shell. Frisk groaned as though they'd been dealt a mortal wound, and Asriel, wearing a terrifying grin, clapped heartily and cackled. You hollered, throwing your arms over your head.

"Fuck yeah! Eat it!"

You were grinning like a mad man, breathless from shoulder-wrestling with Frisk in front of the television. Mario cart really got you determined like nothing else. 

"watch your language," something sharply struck the back of your head, and you yelped, dropping the remote and clutching your crown, "kid." 

Your good mood evaporated as quickly as water on a scalding summer sidewalk. You twisted to give Sans a glare, and he narrowed his sockets right back at you, looking very pleased with himself as you rubbed the spot he'd struck with - what? A flick of his fingers? Or something sharper, something reminiscent of a run before? Whatever it was, it had struck hard enough to break the skin; thankfully, it wasn't bleeding freely- just enough to wet your fingertips. That wasn't what bothered you, however. It was the way he had said the nickname, 'kid.'

He really did hate you.

You lowered your gaze and stood up, kicking the controller aside. "Watch the movie without me."

You walked out of the room, picking up Asriel when he raised his leaves to you as you passed, past where Undyne and Alphys were huddled in one sofa, waiting for Papyrus to come in with popcorn. 

Frisk had invited everyone over for a movie night. Mom and Dad were busy, but everyone else had found time to come over. It it was clear that Alphys and Undyne had assumed you wouldn't be a part of the gathering, as their expressions had dropped when it wasn't Frisk who had opened the door. Sans and Papyrus had come over shortly after, and Papyrus had greeted you with an almost too enthusiastic hug. Sans had been quick to separate you, saying Frisk probably needed help in the kitchen. You had tried to avoid him, but clearly he wasn't content with glaring at you anymore. 

Well, if they didn't want you there so badly, who were you to deny them?

"(Y/N)!"

You ignored Frisk's call, ignored Sans' voice, muffled by the closing of your bedroom door, saying something in response. You set Asriel on the table beside your bed and sat heavily, planting your face in your hands. A leaf rustled as it ran down your arm.

"Who needs them, anyway? Creatures like you and me only need each other, Chara." 

You took a deep breath, and said, quietly, "I don't want to use that name anymore, Asriel, and we're not creatures. We're just kids."

You took one hand from your face and, peering out from behind your fingers, reached out and ran a thumb along the smooth curve of Asriel's cheek. He was frowning- not angry, not even blankly, but genuinely, like he used to when you had mentioned you wondered how things would have been different if you had never existed, so long ago. 

The door clicked. In an instant, your facade was back and you were glaring as Frisk stepped into the room. They looked exasperated. They pushed the door mostly closed with their heel, then stood with their arms crossed.

"They're never going to learn to trust you if you keep leaving at the drop of a hat."

You sneered, gut curdling and turning over against your innards. "You say 'they,' but you mean him, don't you?" They sighed, looking away as though frustrated. "You heard the way he talks to me. Don't lie to me. You know he hates me."

They didn't speak for a moment, intently studying one of the flowers you had pinned to the wall. "You just need to try harder."

You kicked at one of your shoes. It rolled several feet and hit the wall with a dull thud. "I don't hear you telling him off for 'not trying hard enough'." They opened their mouth, looking ready to defend him, and you cut them off, "Listen, I'll start trying harder when he stops treating me like the scum of the earth. Go watch your stupid movie, will ya? You're nearly as bad as Mom sometimes." 

They huffed and left the room, the door closing a little louder than they really needed to behind them. You fell back on your pillow, letting out a sigh. After a moment, Asriel crawled out of his pot and wound his way up to your shoulder. You touched one of his leaves, and he gripped you just a bit tighter. At the very least, you still had him.

 

Pain was everywhere, in your shoulders, in your legs, in your stomach, in your eyes. You could barely remain standing. One more blow and you would fall apart into a million pieces. You clutched the cold, dead body closer, trying to keep the tears from running through your fur and falling onto the corpse. 

"Asriel, please!" You screamed, your soul growing ever weaker around his. You clung to him, clung to the one thing you had in this stupid world. He was crying too. "They're hurting you! Fight them! They won't let you go alive!" You buried your face in his sweater, clutched his sleeve, pleading, sobbing, screaming. You looked at him, his eyes so like Dad's, deep green and tinged red at the edges and beautiful. "In this world, its kill or be killed!" 

He stared back at you a moment more, then you were turning and plodding away from the human settlement, and yet more spears imbedded themselves in your back.   
-  
You woke in your bed, cold and clammy, the sheets sticking to you. You sat up, scratching at your mess of hair absentmindedly. A nightmare again. 

You stood and stretched. It was still dark out, and Asriel was asleep on the bedside table, head drooping as he snored softly. You grabbed your sweater and pulled it over your head, jamming your feet into your shoes. You stopped beside Frisk's door, listening. They were snoring, the sound muffled by their pillow. The filter in their fish tank gurgled softly. You padded your way to the front door, trying to be quiet. 

It was cold outside, and you were glad you had grabbed your sweater. The chill pressed in around you, soothing and familiar. You breathed deeply, loving the fresh smell of dew and damp moss drifting by a slight breeze. You stood on the front steps, searching for the moon through drooping eyes. You probably should have just gone back to bed, but... 

The cosmos stretched out above you, infinite and terrifying and beautiful. You stared into the void. The void stared back. A hundred million stars glittered up there, winking and flashing and flickering and glittering against the canvas of deepest, darkest indigo. You had forgotten how much you missed the stars. A small part of you whispered that you liked the wishing room more, liked the feeling of all those wishes, trapped inside flowers, glittering and gleaming high above your head. You wondered if yours and Asriel's were still there. Your heart ached.

You looked up and down the street, and blinked. Someone else was out on their porch, too. His hoodie was deep, dark, navy blue in the silvery shine of the moon. You hopped off the steps and meandered your way over, curious and tired and forgetting just how much he hated you. An old feeling was stirring in the deep, dark depths of your nothing-soul, an old feeling that made you want to be there with him, both of you sharing the same patch of sky. 

"You're up, too, huh?"

He jumped, skull pivoting around to look at you from where he'd been gazing upwards, much like you had. His socket lights were like white supergiants in his skull, shining out at you from impossibly far away. You rocked on the heels of your feet, humming, as he narrowed his sockets and scrutinized you. 

"Couldn't sleep?"

Something flickered behind his sockets, something you knew too well. You nodded.

"Yeah. Me too."

You only just caught his perturbed expression as you turned to look back up at the sky. From here, you could see the moon, a big fat silver dollar hanging in the sky. You reached out and traced the edge of it with your thumb.

"People always said there's a man in the moon. Can you see him?"

From the corner of your eye, you saw the skeleton blink, then turn to follow your gaze. You were both silent a while. You sank down to sit on his bottom step, resting your chin in your hand, eyes drooping again. 

"I always saw a monster. Not a person." You found the curve of the eye, traced it to the corner of the mouth. "Looks better that way."

For a while, that's all you did. Stare up at the infinite expanse above you from the comedian's front steps, trying to count the stars. You wondered if he was doing the same.

Your head was beginning to drop when a shoe nudged your back and you snapped straight upright, startled. 

"go home, kid. you can't sleep on my porch."

You stumbled to your feet, rubbing at your eyes, staggering briefly. You should have been sleeping.

"Right. That would leave me with a terrible crick in my back, right?"

You turned and gave him a sloppy wave before turning and tramping your way back home. In the instant before you turned around, your eyes had locked with his, and what you found there stuck to the insides of your skull like glue as you collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep, dreaming of him- of those black, empty sockets, seeing right though you.

 

You stood there, facing it off with the short skeleton inside your own home, insides churning and burning with anger. You hated him. You loathed him. You wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off his face. You wanted...

You remembered him buying Frisk a well earned lunch after a tiring day of sparing monsters. You remembered him cheering Frisk on in his own nonchalant, lazy way. You remembered him playing a joke on Frisk in Waterfall, using a broken telescope. You remembered him sneaking Frisk into Mettaton Resort. You remembered the secret code words he whispered to Frisk. You remembered the key he gave to Frisk, the room he showed to Frisk. You remembered saving his soul, lost inside Asriel, remembered him telling Frisk he was rooting for them. You remembered the jokes he told Frisk. Remembered him laughing with Frisk.

If he was going to hate you, shouldn't he at least be fair and hate them, too?

You scowled at him, indignation hot in your blood. "Listen here, pal," you stepped forward, stabbing his chest with your finger as you got closer to his stupid skull, and he glared right back at you, cold and empty, "if you've gotta problem with me, I'd be kind enough to remind you that this is my house, and the door is there." 

You pointed, narrowing your eyes at him. He stepped away from you, hands in his pockets, that stupid grin on his face. "you're not the only one that lives here, kid." He was sneering, and you wanted to sock the look out of him. "i don't think your friend would be so happy if you kicked one of their pals out just because you had to go and lose your temper. again."

Tears scorched behind your eyes. You forced them back, hands curling into fists. "You know," you spat from between your teeth, suddenly unable to bear it all and suck it up for Frisk's sake, unable to try and mask your envy any longer, unable to force back the small part of you that was angry that Frisk was always the favorite, "if you're going to go ahead and hate someone, you might as well hate their partner in crime. After all," a horrid grin split your face, twisting your muscles uncomfortably, "murderers never work alone, right?"

He scoffed, and you stopped grinning, going back to wanting to sock the living daylights out of him. He eyed you with such contempt, such unbridled hatred, it made you want to gut yourself and hang your innards from a tree so he target practice on them. He grinned, narrowing his sockets at you, one so empty and deep and dark and black.

"you really think i'm gonna fall for that shtick? you may have the others fooled, but i'll always know the truth about what you did. to us. to Frisk. they told me all about it."

All the burning anger drained from you like water from a sink, quickly replaced with a cold emptiness. You stared at him, glare dissolving to be replaced with something akin to disbelief. The cold claws of something all too familiar to you scratched up and down your spine, pierced your hollow husk of a soul. "They...?"

Something clunked loudly to the floor behind you, and Sans' gaze was drawn that way, suddenly looking faintly confused. You spun around, fingers digging into your palms. Frisk's eyes stared back into yours, faintly panicked, faintly pleading. The tears burned, threatened to spill again, but could not fight back the cold filling you, inside to out. 

"What did you tell him?" You whispered, begging for it not to be true. Hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't...

They glanced at Sans over your shoulder, then met your gaze again, openly pleading now. "I wanted him to trust me again." 

You inhaled, the tears spilling over your cheeks. How dare they sound feeble, distraught? The cold inside you turned so sharp it burned, and you glared at them, hot and cold burning inside you- anger and betrayal, side by side. 

"So that's just it, then?!" You yelled, and they flinched back, begging you with their eyes, begged for your mercy. But none came. "All that matters is what you want, is that it?! Others can be left to rot and suffer so long as little old you is having a right good time?!" 

Your fists were clenched so tight you thought your tendons might bust and snap, your breaths coming as heaves. They said your name, softly, helplessly. Well, let them suffer. 

"Oh, I get it, now!" You threw your head back, cackled. "Goat Mom, Goat Dad, and scapegoat!" You scowled, crushing a handful of sweater in front of your chest. "I can't believe I ever trusted you to be kind after what I'd seen you do! After what path I'd seen you choose! You're a manipulative little prick is what you are, thinking you're free of consequences! Well, guess what?!" 

You jolted forward, grabbing fistfuls of their sweater and jerking them closer, baring your teeth into their terrified face. You felt the whoosh of magic, dug in your heels as you felt that tight, restricting feeling of having your soul grabbed. 

"I will not forget this. No amount of resets can fix this." You snarled into their face. 

With a jerk, you went such lurching away from them, crashing into the wall beside the door, cracking your shoulder against it so sharply it made you cry out. You were released and you crumpled to the floor, curling in on yourself on instinct, clutching your shoulder and weeping. When the gripping feeling did not return, you dragged yourself to your feet, clinging to the wall, struck arm trembling. You lifted your head, searching for Frisk through your tears. They and Sans were standing several feet apart, feeling eternities away from you, one staring at you with apologies and infinite concern, the other with unease and confusion and disbelief. You heaved several deep breaths, trying to speak past your loss of breath and tears. You found Frisk's gaze and held it fast. You swallowed.

"I can't believe I ever trusted a human."

You wrenched open the back door and tore through it, bolting into the woods. Branches and leaves lashed at your still wet cheeks. You ripped through a bramble and kept running, hiccuping and sobbing and trying to mop the tears from your face in vain. You ran as though you were trying to escape. Maybe you were. Escape that house, escape his look, escape Frisk.

How could they? After everything you had been through... to turn you into the scapegoat so they could run away from the consequences yet again... to turn the one you had been hoping to bond with the most against you... How could they?

But then, you had never told them of your little... 'crush' on the comedian. Maybe they wouldn't have done it if they had known about all the times you had struck with one of your hands, attempting to grab one of his, only to have your hand slide right through his. If you had told them about how you wanted to show him the sky. If you had told them how you adored his terrible, terrible jokes. How you wanted him to smile at you that way. 

You furiously shook your head, fingers tangling in your hair and scratching furiously as you came to a gasping, staggering stop. That shouldn't have mattered- didn't matter. He hated you. They had made him hate you. They had made you go on that route with them. They had made you watch them kill Papyrus. They had drawn you into that sick, twisted game- see who could spot the last one you needed to dust first. You had joined in on that game, thinking it might give you something you'd been looking for- might give you their ability to go back and try again. You and them had faced off against him as one in the judgement hall. He hated you. No wonder he hated you. No wonder they all hated you.

You flung yourself at the dirt, dug your fingers in and gouged long lines into it, throwing up handfuls of grit behind you, imagining you were digging your fingers into him, them, yourself. The tears had stopped, but rage had replaced them. 

Images surfaced in the dark pool that was your memory- the way Undyne and Alphys' smiles dropped when you opened the door, Mettaton breezing past you as if it was easier to pretend you weren't there, Sans watching your every living, breathing move when you were around his friends, Mom and Dad's tired, exchanged looks. 

You pounded your fists into the dirt, the skin on your knuckles turning red and splitting. 

You remembered Asriel allowing you to crawl into his bed when you woke whimpering. You remembered how you had cried when Mom had first given you pie, a hug, a home. You remembered Dad carrying you around the throne room on his shoulders, remembered his hand large around yours as you lay, coughing and crying and vomiting, on the bed that would be your last. You remembered Papyrus' open arms, welcoming grin- "you can still do a little better, I know you can". 

Your punches slowly stopped. You curled in on yourself, clutching your knees and going limp around yourself in the middle of that glade in the woods. You sniffled and gasped and wept yourself out until there were simply no more tears left inside you. Even still, you sat, hunched in the middle of a torn up patch of dirt. For a fleeting moment, you wanted to be away, far, far away, from this place, from those people; a familiar feeling. 

There was a soft fwoosh, the sound of a twig snapping. You lifted your head a little, glanced up. The comedian had decided to make his appearance. He stood at the edge of the clearing, clearly scrutinizing. Trying to figure out what made you tick. You lowered your head again, planted your eyes in your knees.

"I'm not plotting murder out here, you know. Feel free to leave any time." 

He might have scoffed. You took a deep, shuddering breath. When had your mouth gone so dry? You tried to swallow. 

"I wasn't going to hurt anyone." He snorted, might have opened his jaws to say something. "That was their idea." 

His jaws clicked closed. You shifted your head a bit, staring down at the dark earth just beyond your torn socks. He was staring at you oddly now, you could see it out of the corner of your eye.

"At first I was just along for the ride. Confused. I just didn't understand, couldn't understand. Not at first. They said they were curious. What would happen, they asked? What laid at the end of this route? Eventually, we began to do it together, I began to push the boundaries of what I'd done before. Eventually, I convinced myself it was something I wanted, too, that whatever was just around the corner was something I'd been searching my whole afterlife for. Maybe it was. But it wasn't." 

You trailed off. A bird was twittering, somewhere up high in the trees. An ant crawled over one of your toes. He was still staring at you. Disbelieving, perhaps? As though you were the liar. A dirty brother killer. You remembered the shimmer of the hall reflecting off his sweat and pristine white bones, remembered the ever burning scorch of the old doctor's creations, remembered the horribly stabbing pain of bones crushing through flesh. 

"I didn't want to kill him, you know." You swallowed, eyes burning with unshod tears. "I never wanted to kill your brother. He reminded me of mine." 

You buried your face in your knees again, crying softly. The tears had come back. How could they come back? You heard the comedian shift on his feet, felt his unease, his distrust. You remembered that grin, those open and welcoming arms. 

"It was me that chose to do it, you know." 

You lifted your head, looked at him for a moment. The light stung your eyes, and his visage swam in and out of focus, but he looked disconcerted, studying your face so intently you could feel the hot lines of his gaze drawing across your face. You looked away, watched a patch of sunlight flicker and shift. 

"I begged Frisk to take you up on that offer, let you spare us. I wanted that, so badly it hurt, so badly I..." You took a deep breath, touching a broken leaf with your fingertips. So fragile. When you regained the ability to speak, you continued in a whisper. "After that, it was me that kept fighting you, trying to hit you with that knife. I hated you, because in that moment you had looked so much like him, but then acted so much like me."

More silence. You wondered what would happen after this, after you went back home to Frisk and Mom and Dad and Asriel. What he would say to them. You broke off a fragment of the leaf. What did it matter? He probably didn't believe you anyway.

"I never wanted to leave the underground." You blinked back more tears, wondering how things would have been different if you had refused to join them on the surface. "It was the only place that ever felt like home. But... they had made me hope... maybe, things would be different this time... I would have monsters around me, this time..." You gently flicked a clod of dirt off one of your fingers, legs stiff and sore and heart heavy. "But I have always been the same. This will follow me no matter where I go."

You sighed, trying to dust off your hands while not disturbing the self inflicted scratches and chipped patches of skin you'd left there. You stood, shakily, and lifted your head and met his gaze for a moment. He was staring you, sockets dark but not empty. Disturbed. You turned away and began trudging back the way you'd come. You paused at the edge of the clearing, turning your head a little so you could almost see him. Contemplated what you were going to say.

"Monsters were the first ones to make me feel truly happy. I might as well return the favor." 

You took a deep breath, then plodded off through the woods, leaving the comedian behind. Let him do as he pleased, think as he pleased. Soon, it wouldn't matter; he and his friends could be truly happy.  
-  
You slipped into the house quietly, padding softly to your room and almost closing the door behind you. Asriel was napping in a slant of sunshine coming through the window. You sat on the bed, legs crossed beneath you, dirt scuffing the sheets. You winced. Mom wouldn't be happy if she knew about that. 

The creak of the bed roused Asriel, who lifted his head groggily and yawned. You reached out and touched his petals gently, and he might have smiled slightly, turning and giving you his attention. He blinked, studying the dirt scuffing your hands and pants, your red and tired eyes. 

"Where have you been? 'Taking care of' some annoyance?" His grin turned horrible for a split second. "I heard you shouting earlier. What was that about? Do you need an alibi?" You shook your head, again running your thumb along your siblings thick, floppy petals. He frowned, apparently noticing your 'unlike you' quiet. 

"No. For now I just need you here with me." He mumbled something, and you bent your head closer to his, touching your forehead gently to his. For once, he made no remark about how the soft action was. For a long time, you sat in silence, occasionally touching one of his leaves in a reassuring way. To reassure yourself. Not him. Finally you spoke again, a soft whisper. "I'm sorry that I did this to you, Asriel." 

He pulled away a little and you did too, gazing softly at the poor potted buttercup. He studied you, suddenly looking almost concerned. A little alarmed. 

"Chara... what's the matter with you? I know that look. What are you thinking about?" 

His words turned harsher, more demanding as he continued. So unlike the fluffy prince you once knew. You smiled tenderly, shaking your head softly. He frowned, scowled, looking almost fearful. Just then, you heard footsteps, the creak of your door being pushed open. You took a deep breath, strengthened your resolve, and turned, standing off the bed. You faced Frisk with a hint of determination, shoulders squared, face almost stern. They looked meek, apologetic, feeble. They took a tentative step into the room, clutching their sleeves. For a while, the tension hung between you, so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

"Frisk."

"(Y/N), I..." They stepped marginally closer, almost pleading. Their gaze searched yours almost desperately. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to... Please, if there's anything I can..." They trailed off, chewing their lip, the last words like a prayer on their breath. "Please," they whispered. 

You narrowed your eyes at them, scrutinizing them. "Anything?" It came out strongly, harsher than you intended. They flinched, then nodded, hope blooming behind their eyes.

"Yes, anything, anything to make it up to you! I'm so, so sorry, I shouldn't have..."

You stared at them hard, turning the words over in your head. Asriel glanced between you, clearly annoyed and uneasy. 

"What are you talking about? Sorry about what?"

"You promise me you'll do anything I ask, no matter what it is?" You plowed on, holding Frisk's gaze. They squirmed, hesitant for a moment.

"O-of course." You tried to ignore the tightness of your throat, a heartbeats of silence hanging between you, thick and heavy with regrets.

"Reset." 

Both Asriel and Frisk recoiled in shock. 

"Chara?!"

"B-but you made me promise-"

"I know what I said." You cut them off, tone harsh. You took a pace forward, almost glaring at them. "Go back to the beginning. Do the pacifist run again. Run through the story one more time. If you complete it without killing a single monster, I'll give you the ending you want." 

There was confusion on their face, something akin to regret. Asriel glanced frantically between you, shaking slightly, looking absolutely furious, absolutely terrifying. 

Frisk swallowed, kneading their sweater uncertainly. "But, (Y/N), there's got to be another way..."

You narrowed your eyes at them, challenged them. "You promised." 

"Chara, what are you doing?! You can't leave me again, I won't let you! What are   
you talking about?! This /is/ the best ending- they know it, I know it, you know it! You're here! With me! What better endings are there?!" 

You turned, facing Asriel once more. He was crying, spitting, shaking. Denial. You knelt, running your fingers along the edges of his petals gently, smiling at him softly. His face changed, the face you knew so well and loved appearing once more. He searched your gaze, pleading. You pressed your cheek to his, his petals tickling your hair. He hiccuped.

"Oh, Asriel." You breathed, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry I did this to you." 

You pulled away from him, allowing him to cling to your hand, to crawl up your arm, to bury his face in your neck and weep desperate pleas for you to stay. You tried to ignore it, resolve threatening to crumble. Soon, he would understand. You strode to Frisk. 

"Well?" 

They stared at you, long and hard, before they closed their eyes and nodded, slowly. Defeated, they went slack in their skin and slowly raised a hand, summoning the Reset button. They stared down at it, hand hovering above it, hesitating. Asriel's tears were wet against your skin.

There was a soft fwoosh, footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and the comedian appeared in the doorway. His eye, still blue from teleporting, found the button first, then found yours. Realization sprawled across his face and he made a move to lunge forward, fear on his features as he reached a hand out to Frisk. In the same instant, before you could let yourself think about it, before you could turn back, you grabbed their wrist and yanked their hand downwards.

"kid, don't-!"

Their fingers touched the bright, bold letters, and hot, white light overwhelmed your senses.

-

They woke on the bed of flowers as they usually did. They stared at you for a long time before they silently got up and started their adventure. Asriel didn't remember a thing, as usual; Toriel blinked twice when she saw Frisk, but you had always looked alike. Nothing was drastically changed. It was still the same old world. Somehow, you were both glad and disappointed.

Frisk dwaddled often this run, took their time. You narrated, as usual, sometimes putting in an edge to your voice to urge them to keep going. It was a long time before you left the Ruins, and when you did, you were tempted to leave Frisk to adventure on their own until they left Sans' bits behind. In the end, you settled for trailing far behind, just close enough to keep them in sight. Their meeting by the bridge was brief, and you got the feeling Sans didn't say his usual lines. Sans couldn't see you, as usual; he passed you as he went through one of his shortcuts, and, though you avoided his gaze, he didn't even glance your way or flinch or scowl. You couldn't tell if you were relieved or disappointed. 

You continued onward. Snowdin. Papyrus. Spare. Waterfall. Undyne. Spare. Hotland. Alphys. Mettaton. Spare. Asriel's Omega fight. The old scientists lab. Spare. Asriel's fight. The lost souls. One took longer than usual to stir, but Frisk managed. You hung back.

( * There's still someone who needs to be saved... 

* You reach out and call their name... )

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" Frisk called your name, searching for you, reaching out toward your brother, hoping you would help them. Asriel flinched, looking shocked. 

"What?!"

You appeared, exchanging a brief glance with the battered, determined human, then turned and took the few quick strides that took you to Asriel's side- he was so big, so powerful, so broken- and took his hand in your faint, ghostly one. 

And then, the fight was over. 

Frisk comforted him. Forgave him. Told him their name. He broke the barrier. You watched him hastily retreat as all of the lost souls began to stir. They would all be ready to leave as soon as Frisk was, Toriel said. Frisk nodded, tried to catch Sans' eye, then turned to you, gaze questioning, confused. Was this the ending? You shook your head slightly, turning back.

"Come on."

The walk was long. Back. Back. Back. Back to the Ruins. Back to where you fell. Back to the buttercups. Back to your grave. Back to Asriel. 

"You know, I don't know how I ever mistook you for Chara." Asriel laughed lightly, tears resting in the bottoms of his eyelids. "Chara... well, they weren't a very good person." 

"Asriel." 

His head snapped up, and his gaze found yours. He still had his emotions back, all that leftover love and happiness and sadness swirling around inside him, ready to disperse with nothing to contain it. Your hand found the front of your sweater and clenched it, feeling your soul underneath. Worthless. Dead. A shadow. A shell. 

A vessel. 

With the remains of your soul, Asriel was able to reclaim what he had lost so long ago. You were now less than matter, less than ghost- but still there. A shadow of what used to be, trapped in the underground. You followed your brother and his friend back, back to the exit. Mom and Dad were shocked, cried, claimed it was a miracle, blessed Frisk and offered them the world. Asriel sobbed in their arms, finally, finally happy. 

Frisk didn't say how it happened, just that they had found him in the flower bed. Sans looked stunned, as though someone had struck him across the face. Frisk had told him of Asriel before, of not being able to save him. Could he, against all odds, make the connection between your lack of appearance and Asriel's saving? You did not have high hopes.

They all went outside. You hung back, in the doorway, watched them as they gazed upon the sunrise for the first time for the last time. Frisk accepted Toriel's offer of a home- of course they did. They all, slowly, began making their way down the mountain. Frisk hung back. Asriel hung back. Sans hung back. 

Frisk turned, searching the dark doorway for the glimmer of your silhouette, sad, hopeful. After a moment, you stepped out of the shadows. You were holding your trusty knife- the only thing you had left. It, too, was translucent, just like the rest of you. Both you and it hung on the edge of existence. Frisk gasped, eyes wide, and Asriel and Sans turned. 

"Frisk." 

Your voice was odd, as though it came from somewhere far away. Maybe it did. Asriel's hands flew to his muzzle, and Sans went as still as stone. You lifted your empty hand a little ways away from your side, palm out flat. Slowly, the Reset button came flickering into life. It was hard to hold it there- so hard. Their soul was still yours; that was the only thing allowing you to cling to this place, to do what had to be done. Frisk stared at the flickering word, mortified. Sans started forward, eye flaring as though he wanted to strike you- but there was nothing to hit. You smiled, feeling as though your very being was wobbling with the effort of keeping the button there and holding Frisk's gaze. 

"It's been fun. Don't come back."

You turned, and raised your hand, swung it down- with an ear splitting crack, the button broke into pieces. 

-

You hummed as you carefully plucked a dead flower from the bunch flourishing above your dead body. You had a bundle in your arms, as pale and ghostly as you were, some sprinkled with small specks of red. Buttercups. You had always liked buttercups, despite how poisonous they were. There was a metaphor in there somewhere, you chuckled- something about how much you loved things that would only hurt you.

There was the unmistakable scuffle of footsteps on stone somewhere behind you. You laughed weakly, not even bothering to turn around. “C’mon, Frisk. Don't you have anything better to do?” 

“heya.”

You froze, then turned, eyes wide. Sans stood in the doorway to your chamber, sockets empty and skull shining with sweat. You drifted upward and away, putting some distance between you instinctively. Your feet hovered several feet above the flower bed, the sunlight coming down from the hole in the mountain making your faint figure shimmer.

“so. uh. it's been a while, huh?”

Sans shifted on his feet uncomfortably, grimacing more when you didn't answer. You stared at each other, neither of you sure what to do or say. He looked around, scratching the back of his skull. After a while, he inhaled slowly and let out the breath gradually, sockets closed.

“look, kid. i, uh… think we got off on the wrong foot. so… let's try this again.” He straightened up, grinning at you and taking one of his hands out of his pockets. It hung in the air, fingers loosely spread. 

“don’t you know how to greet a new pal? c’mon down and shake my hand.”


End file.
